


A Brand New Road

by Loveislove87



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 20,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveislove87/pseuds/Loveislove87
Summary: Alex has tried to keep it together, to be the best friend he could be. But he can't pretend forever.Michael believes he has everything he could ever want. Until a sudden departure shows him how wrong he's been.
Relationships: Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 179
Kudos: 450





	1. Chapter 1

Alex left on a Tuesday morning. 

Saturday had been just another day; sunny, warm, nothing pressing to do. He’d gotten a text in the group chat from Maria:

_Everyone to the Pony at 8_

His stomach still did that thing when he went there, having to witness Michael and Maria together, an odd combination of happiness and resentment, comfort and fury. Alex’s friendships hadn’t been the same, not with anyone really, since they’d started dating. Everyone had managed to find their own path, their focus, except Alex.

With a painted smile on his face, he had entered the bar that night expecting an alien update, the main reason the chat was used. But when he saw Maria trying to suppress a beaming smile, his gut churned, and he immediately regretted walking in the door.

In a daze, he somehow made it through their happy announcement, watching everyone’s excitement in slow motion, like a damaged projection or looking through a sheer curtain. 

Eventually his senses caught up to him. Breathing deeply through his nose, he forced his lips to curl upwards and gave Maria a hug and Guerin a firm handshake, unable to meet his eye. He attempted the, “don’t hurt her or else” bit but it came out halfhearted and broken.

Not long after that, he’d snuck out without a word, climbing into his Jeep and driving to the cabin, foot pressed too heavy on the accelerator. Once home, he’d completed his nighttime routine in silence, only the sound of dog nails clicking against the wood floors kept him company.

He climbed into bed and pulled Buffy close, burying his nose in her fur.

Alex fell asleep that night knowing he couldn’t stay.

He’d called in a favor late Sunday morning, another beautiful day mocking him and his agony. No one seemed to notice his early exit the night before, only Kyle who sent him a simple _you okay?_ text. Alex couldn’t figure out how to answer that, so he didn’t, secretly grateful for the sentiment though.

Monday was spent proactively changing his address, packing his bags and tidying up the house. He closed up the cabin the night before, saying his goodbyes in the privacy of the trees. A few times throughout the day, between folding t-shirts and bathroom breaks for her highness, he sat at his kitchen table, armed with a pen and a sheet of paper, debating about writing a letter explaining his decision. Other times he’d hold his phone in his hands, squinting as his contact list, fingers hovering over familiar names and opening up messages he’d never write. Despite never feeling more alone, Alex didn’t want anyone worried or feeling guilty.

But in the end, he was too much of a coward to face anyone; paper, screen or otherwise.

He did leave a note on the counter, folding it neatly in half and scribbling Kyle’s name in large print. It wasn’t anything deep, just a simple explanation that he had a change of station and asking Kyle to take care of his place while he was gone. He also offered the cabin to Kyle, a place to get away that could be his. It made Alex happy to think of Kyle using his father’s cabin as his home away from home.

With his last bag tossed in the back seat and Buffy happily climbing into the passenger’s side, Alex took one last look at his house. One of the few things he owned, that he’d done all on his own, that felt like his.

He had to leave it behind.

Sighing, he grabbed his phone and shot a quick text to Kyle, vaguely asking him to swing by at some point, use his key and, no, it wasn’t an emergency. He bit his lip as the engine roared to life and Buffy began moving in shaky circles to find the most comfortable position for the trip.

Texas would be great. It had to be.


	2. Chapter 2

“Shouldn’t you be inside celebrating?”

Michael leaned further over the railing on the back deck of the Pony, taking a swig of his beer and pointedly not looking at Isobel. He felt her move to his side, mimicking his stance. They stood there, together, quiet except for the crickets in the back field and the dulled music escaping through the closed door.

“What do you want to say, Iz? You know I have no patience.”

Isobel scoffed and Michael turned slightly to catch her ponytail dancing with the shake of her head. “I don’t have anything to say.”

The silence returned and, with it, the discomfort that had been gnawing at Michael’s gut all evening. His hand shook as he brought the beer to his lips once more. He froze when Isobel’s soft, soothing hand covered his and squeezed. He risked a glance and found her face open with a kind smile but sad eyes. He couldn’t help but smile back and interlock their fingers, eyes roaming back over the field, the overgrown weeds bowing to the summer breeze.

“I know you love her, Michael. We all do.”

Her voice was gentle, and he nodded in agreement.

After a few minutes, Isobel sighed and pulled her hand away. Michael missed her presence immediately, flexing his hand to hold onto her comfort for just a second more.

“Well, I’m heading out if you’re okay.”

Michael laughed and raised an eyebrow. “It’s my party, Iz. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

She tucked her hands into her pockets and shrugged, eyes searching the open field once more.

“We take you seriously, Michael. You’re brilliant, you’re kind, you’re driven. We believe in you. I believe in you.”

Michael stood straight, bottle held loosely by his fingertips, threatening to fall and shatter. He swallowed painfully as tears stung his eyes.

“If you want to get married, to DeLuca, and have a family and settle down, I will be there every step of the way, rooting you on and making you insane.” Michael couldn’t help but laugh, sniffing while he shook his head. Isobel’s guarded smile shifted into a serious line. “But if this is because you think it’s the right thing or the next thing or the easier thing? You just…don’t have to.”

It was as though Isobel had walked into his mind and pulled out the thoughts even he was trying to clamp down on. He knew she wouldn’t cross that line but that was even more frightening. How obvious must he have been?

With her unwavering grace, Isobel crossed the short distance between them and pulled him into a tight hug, one Michael was more desperate for than he’d ever admit. With a kiss to the cheek, she whispered in his ear, “love might be a crash landing, Michael, but what comes after can be so fucking worth it.”

Giving him a playful tap to the cheek and a wink, she headed back inside, leaving Michael alone with his thoughts once again.

Finishing the last of his drink, Michael walked back inside as well, grimacing when the music slammed into his ears. His eyes searched the darkness, hoping to spy Alex one more time. Their exchange earlier, an awkward joke about taking care of Maria where Alex couldn’t even look him in the eye, left him feeling off balance and uncomfortable. They’d grown to be friends, or at least he thought they had. But he knew the reality of it, the truth of their relationship. Could he ever really be friends with someone he loved, was still in love with?

When Alex had dated Forrest, Michael had lost sleep. His mind wandered everywhere it didn’t belong. What were their dates like? Were they affectionate? Had they slept together? How did he react to Alex’s leg? The jealousy he felt was unbearable, clawing at his chest and throat, unpredictable in its appearance.

When it had ended, Michael had flown to Alex’s side, unsure of how to be a comfort but wanting to try. It turned out just bringing food and tolerating Alex’s playlists were enough.

But Michael had wanted more, and he knew Alex did, too.

It took effort to not hold Alex’s hand. He had to walk away when the urge to hold him became too strong. He physically left the bunker once when he found himself leaning into Alex’s space, unconsciously being drawn to his lips as he droned on about codes and password protection.

He went home to the airstream that night and stared at the filthy, white ceiling, shining with the moon sneaking past the broken blinds. He thought of their past, their history, how their families intertwined. Then he thought of Maria, how the same could be said of them. How he felt with her and how he felt with Alex. He didn’t sleep at all.

Then Alex had gotten into some classified files and the horrific details of a particular set of reproductive experiments were assaulting them from the computer screen. Alex looked like he was a minute from being sick and Michael, well Michael had never been more furious in his life. He’d stormed out of the bunker ready to throw his truck into the clouds. Alex, as always, was full of apologies and franticly trying to calm Michael down. But he’d been like a caged animal, pent up and ready for a fight. The things he said to Alex, the misplaced hate he threw onto his shoulders…a few days later and Michael was filled with shame but, ultimately, resolve.

He and Alex could never be together. It was time to only look ahead.

So, he’d saved for a bit and picked out a ring and did it all right, surprised by how easily and natural it came to him.

But then he saw Alex’s face tonight. And Isobel seeing right through him. And-

“Hey.”

Michael was pulled back to reality by Kyle, standing way too close but looking concerned.

Nodding, Michael said, “hey.”

“I’ve gotta get going. I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, but I wanted to, uh, say congratulations.”

Michael offered a tight smile and another small nod, grabbing another beer from the ice bucket nearby. “Thanks, doc.”

Kyle nodded and looked around, awkwardly not moving but looking like he wanted to.

Michael laughed and asked, “you alright there?”

The look he got in return took the humor out of the room and left Michael with a rapid pulse. Kyle looked flustered as he pushed a hand through his hair and avoided eye contact. “It’s your day, man, and I’m serious, congrats. You’ve been through hell and deserve to be happy.”

Michael furrowed his eyebrows and drawled, “okay.”

Clearing his throat, Kyle took a breath and shook his head. “You couldn’t have warned him? Given him a head’s up about what tonight was? I know Maria wanted it to be a surprise, that’s cool, I get it, but…”

Michael’s throat was getting drier by the second and his hands gripped the glass of his beer too tightly. “But what?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “C’mon. He’s still in love with you and he adores Maria. He just deserved a chance to pass on the party and send a gift or something. I don’t know.”

Michael nodded, mind racing with images of Alex keeping it together while he and Maria laughed and smiled and held each other close, kissing and celebrating. He cringed and wiped his mouth.

“Yeah, I, uh, we didn’t really think of that.”

“I’d say you could apologize but he bailed awhile ago. He probably just needs a little space, y’know?”

“Yeah.” It scared Michael at the effort it took speak, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. “I’ll, um, call him next week or something.”

Kyle smiled and gave his shoulder a pat, squeezing where his hand landed. “He’s a good man but so are you. You both should get a happy ending. I’ll see you later. Have a good night, and congrats again, dude.”

Michael smiled as he watched Kyle leave under the red glow of the exit sign. Laughter filled the room and his gaze found Maria dancing with Liz and Rosa, head tossed back and hair a mess, radiant and stunning.

As inconspicuously as he could, Michael snuck out of the bar and crept up the stairs, locking himself in the bathroom. He slid to the floor, fingers pulling at his hair with his eyes squeezed tight, while his blood pounded in his ears.

For a good man he sure felt like an asshole.


	3. Chapter 3

For three days, Michael had been able to suppress everything he’d been overwhelmed with since Saturday, the night of his engagement party. Thinking of those words still made a brick form in his belly, but he’d been coping, splitting his time equitably with Maria and alone, processing his thoughts over Alex.

He’d made an effort to be around town, running errands for the Pony, swinging by the hospital to drop off coffee to Liz and Valenti, popping in the Crashdown for lunch. Michael told everyone he just wanted to keep busy; his research had stalled out, so he needed to reignite those creative juices.

If he’d happen to bump into Alex during one of his outings, then so be it.

Of course, that didn’t happen, and Michael didn’t know if what he felt was relief or crushing disappointment.

Tuesday afternoon brought a text in the group chat from Kyle.

_Dinner at the Crashdown? 7?_

He watched as the replies came in, everyone but Maria who had the bar to run, free. As he headed out that night, offering Maria a smile and a kiss, he promised he’d let her know the scoop. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the domesticity they had, the ease with which they moved in each other’s lives.

Around 7:15, Michael sauntered into the diner, kindly removing the hat from his head and taking a seat next to Isobel after placing a quick kiss to her cheek. He slumped in the chair and placed his order with Arturo, trying his best to look as casual as possible while monitoring the entrance for Alex.

“No Alex?”

At Liz’s mention of his name, Michael’s eyes met Kyle’s who, he noticed for the first time, looked distant.

Kyle nodded, attention on his hands fidgeting on the tabletop. “Yeah, that’s, uh, why I asked you guys to come here.”

“Is he okay?” Isobel’s voice was calm as her hand subtly moved into Michael’s lap to squeeze his tightly. Michael thought he might break her fingers, but he couldn’t let go until Kyle answered.

“Yeah, yeah he’s okay.”

Michael’s hand relaxed and released the breath he was holding.

“He was transferred, though. Left for Texas this morning.”

Although Kyle hadn’t moved a muscle, Michael felt the room tip suddenly, up was down and right was left. Thankfully, the others had the same questions he had since he couldn’t form words.

Rosa huffed, “Texas? Why didn’t he tell anyone?”

Michael watched Kyle shrug through squinted eyes, doing his best not to literally fall out of his chair with the sudden dizziness. “I don’t know. He sent me a text telling me to swing by, but he was already gone. He left me a note, basically gave me the cabin and asked me to keep an eye on his place.”

“But we didn’t get to say goodbye.” Liz’s voice broke with her tears. Michael knew she always felt like she was failing her friends, always a step behind what they needed nowadays. Priorities elsewhere.

Kyle met his gaze when he said, “he probably thought it was easier.”

Before thinking, Michael stood, hand covering his mouth afraid he might be sick. He felt Isobel’s hand pulling on his coat, but he had to go. He didn’t know where, but he couldn’t think here.

He heard his name being called but he charged out of the diner and into the too hot evening, practically gasping for air. He stumbled to his truck and drove, unsurprisingly ending up at Alex’s house. The front door was locked but, after a quick look around to make sure no one was wandering past, he let himself in.

The place smelled like Alex, even looked like Alex. The walls and furniture were mostly plain colors but soft fabrics. Everything had its place and it was all exactly where it should be. Michael opened a few kitchen cabinets, looking at the mostly plain coffee mugs and drinking glasses. Buffy’s toy bin sat empty in the living room next to the unplugged tv.

His heart raced as he stood in the doorway to Alex’s bedroom, afraid of violating his privacy but desperate to feel close to the man who was now hundreds of miles away. Softly he stepped into the room, noticing the large size of the bed and the luxurious looking bedding. Michael’s breath stuttered when he realized it was probably Alex’s only big splurge, doing his best to get good sleep.

With shaking hands, he opened the closet to find it empty with the exception of some hangers and an extra set of perfectly folded bedding. His fingertips swept across the top of the wood dresser until they found the nickel handles and pulled. The top drawer still had a few pairs of sox and boxers, probably too beaten up to be granted space in his luggage. Michael opened the next drawer and let the first tear escape when he saw a few t-shirts and two pairs of sweatpants left behind.

He quickly pulled off his boots, unbuckled his pants and slid the sweats on. His jacket landed on the floor next to his jeans, followed by his own t-shirt. He slid Alex’s on and stood frozen, catching his image in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. He turned in order to see himself clearly and wrapped his arms around his center as tightly as he could.

He looked and felt like he was seventeen again.

As his throat tightened, he silently climbed into the bed, burying himself under the warm, soft blankets and pushing his face into the pillows, taking deep breaths of Alex’s scent.

Alex was gone. Alex had everything he felt he needed, and he was gone.

Michael sobbed until sleep was kind enough to take him away.


	4. Chapter 4

Michael woke up feeling like he’d been hit in the head with a hammer. His mouth was so dry it took effort to remove his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Refusing to open his eyes, he buried his head further into the pillows, remembering where he was and choosing to stay in the safety of Alex’s scent for just a little while longer.

The sound of nails tapping against cardboard had his eyes snapping open.

Maria looked beautiful, if not a little tired. The sunlight was streaming in through the blinds, painting her golden, glowing where she sat. Michael lay clutching the blanket while he scanned through every excuse he could think of to explain what she was seeing, why he was there.

“You’re a mess.”

Her voice was calm, but her eyes were sad as she stared at him, making his cheeks flush red. He could only imagine what he looked like.

All he could do was nod and force himself to shuffle into a seated position. He kept his eyes on his hands, fidgeting with the oversized blue comforter, sweaty curls sticking to the back of his neck.

He cleared his throat and risked a quick glance at Maria who remained unmoved with the same, even expression. “How did you know where to find me?”

Sipping her coffee, she tilted her head and licked her lips. “Liz called me. She said you ran out of the diner, really upset. We searched all over last night, tried a few of your regular spots. Kyle suggested this place.”

Michael scoffed. “Traitor.”

Maria shook her head. “Not really. It was like pulling fucking teeth to get it out of him.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, imagining Valenti having a moral dilemma on his behalf.

“Doesn’t explain _why_ you’re here, though.”

Michael wasn’t ready for the conversation. He was exhausted and confused but still riding an underlying buzz of fear. Without time to prepare and with Maria’s dark eyes trying to dig into his soul, the truth was the only option.

“Alex left. Again.”

Maria nodded, the set of her mouth relaxing some.

“I didn’t want him to go.”

She leaned over placing her hand on his arm, gently moving her thumb back and forth over the muscle there. “Me neither. None of us did, babe.”

Michael shook his head. He couldn’t think of the right words, couldn’t figure out how to say what he was feeling. Frustration clawed at his insides.

“But you lied to me.”

He held his breath and looked to Maria whose hand still rested on his arm, albeit with a slightly tighter grip. “For years now you’ve made it seem as though you and Alex had a high school thing, hooked up a few times on and off over the years.”

“We did!”

“But that wasn’t all, Michael.” He lost the eye contact, anxiety creeping up his spine. “When I realized I had feelings for you, I beat myself up for weeks. Weeks! I went back and forth, turned it over and over in my head. I wanted to be happy, to have someone in my life who loved me, who wanted me, who took care of me now and then. But how could I do that to Alex? How could I risk losing my best friend?”

She put her coffee down on the bedside table, hands visibly shaking as she regained her composure. “I made my choices, but I used your bullshit as a comfort, Michael. I was able to hide behind the fact that Alex’s feelings for you were one sided, had been for a long time. That you didn’t love him, you loved me, and he’d eventually get over it. Like you did.”

A tear landed on his arm where Maria’s hand had rested moments before. He stared at the wetness, spreading, making the hair on his arm a shade darker.

“You loved him. You still do.”

Michael wiped the dampness on his arm onto the blanket, sniffing and willing away a sudden wave of nausea.

Long, lean fingers pulled at his t-shirt. He watched Maria’s face brighten with a smile. “I bought him this. Gave it to him when he came back home for the first time, years ago. Stupid gag gift.” Michael looked down noticing the shirt he grabbed last night had a picture of a smoking Martian with the caption _your planet or mine_?

He groaned before tossing his head back and covering his eyes with his arms.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, Michael? For which part?”

Banging his head lightly against the headboard, he mumbled, “for hurting you. For denying the truth. For letting everything get so out of hand. For letting everyone down. Again.”

The room was quiet, Michael’s breathing and the birds happily chirping outside the only noises to be heard.

“Why propose?”

Michael smiled. “Because I love you. You make me happy.”

Maria shook her head. “That makes no sense.”

He sat up higher and twisted his body to see her clearly. “You’re amazing and I’m lucky you ever looked at me twice. I’ve been happy, Maria. You made me happy.”

Maria bit her lip as a tear slid down her cheek, mascara drawing a line in its stead. “I was happy, too. But I’m no one’s second choice.”

He reached out and wiped away her tear. “I’m so sorry, Maria. My history with him is so…complicated. I don’t even know-”

“When I was little, I thought I was gonna marry Alex. Did I ever tell you that?”

Michael chuckled, relieved by the interruption and shook his head.

Maria smiled, too, pushing away another stray tear and wiping her hand on her skirt. “Yeah. I thought he was perfect. Smart but rebellious. Handsome but with his own style. There was no one else like Alex. He was amazing. Is amazing.”

She leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. “He told me, months ago when this all started, that he couldn’t be angry with me for falling for you. He said it was easy.”

Michael blinked, surprised that Alex would say such a thing. Maria rolled her eyes. “I don’t know that I would say that but…”

They both laughed, Michael’s chest filled with warmth for them both.

“Michael?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s easy to fall for Alex Manes, too.” She slid her hand into his and tucked a piece of paper between his fingers before she stood and grabbed her coffee, throwing her purse over her shoulder.

He turned it over and realized it was a photo, printed on ordinary paper, worn and fuzzy. Michael couldn’t remember taking it, but it was the two of them, him and Alex, faces too close to the camera, but all smiles with their eyes closed in laughter, happiness radiating from them both.

“Where did you get this?”

Maria tipped her head. “I was looking for a tissue. It was in the drawer. Next to his bed.”

Michael’s mouth fell open, but he quickly closed it, biting his lip hard to hold back the sob threatening to burst out.

“You’re an asshole, Guerin. Stay away from the Pony for a while, alright? I need time.”

Michael nodded, that familiar feeling of regret and shame pulling at his throat.

“Now get your ass out of that bed. Shower, shave and put some clean clothes on. If you’re not on the road for Texas in the next hour, I’ll call Isobel.”

She turned, moving toward the door, but stopped suddenly. “If you hurt him anymore, I’ll kill you.”

With that she was out the door.

Michael allowed himself ten minutes to cry. Cry for the end of his relationship, for hurting Maria, for deceiving so many people, himself included. For losing Alex.

But he got his ass up, dried his tears with that ridiculous alien shirt and did exactly as DeLuca told him to.


	5. Chapter 5

Michael had no fucking idea what he was doing.

After Maria had left him alone to his tears and terror, he'd showered, shamelessly using Alex's soap and shampoo, savoring the memories they brought to mind, threw on some fresh clothes, again, belonging to Alex, and headed to his place to toss a few items in a bag. He hit the road with a bottle of water, a bag of only somewhat stale chips and a mostly empty container of acetone. 

The weather was perfect, warm but with a cool breeze, a few clouds accenting the stunning blue sky. Michael never minded driving, developing a strong affinity for his truck at a young age. The smell, the feel of the wheel, the dip of the seats, the unreliability of the radio, all fit him perfectly. He stopped at a diner before he crossed the border, splurging on a beer and empanadas. They didn't compare to Arturo's or the deputy's, but they did the job and didn't make him puke. 

As he watched the Welcome to Texas sign come into view, Michael found himself pulling over and wandering into an empty field, hands resting on top of his head as he paced, trying to calm his nerves and curb his nausea. In some ways, Texas had started it all. He'd had a crush on Maria for years, respected her for the shit she'd dealt with, and their ill-fated trip to Texas two years ago had finally set the gears in motion, showing him how compatible they could be.

It was the start of a great relationship. And the end of another.

Michael's hand unconsciously moved to his chest, feeling his heart pounding as tears sprung to his eyes for the millionth time. What was he doing? What would he say? Would Alex even talk to him? Could he? Don't Ask got repealed but Michael knew that was a technicality, some fancy paperwork. If his men didn't know Alex was gay, Michael couldn't out him, wouldn't risk the problems that could cause.

He took a deep breath before screaming into the field, fists clenched and arms out, shaking and exhausted. The field paid him no mind. The bugs continued their summertime buzz while the weeds bent for the wind and the cars continued on their journey down the highway. Michael collapsed, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his cheek against his knees. When he was little, especially when he moved in with a new family, he'd find himself curling up into this ball often, an instinct of protection. The smaller he was, the less likely anyone would notice him.

Thoughts of his mom trickled into his mind as a tear dripped from his nose onto his fingers. God, what he wouldn't give to have her here. Not just because he longed for her, for what she could have saved him from for all those years, but for guidance, now. Everything he knew about his mom, the good, the bad, the horrifying, sat in his hands because of Alex. The man he pushed and pushed away until he eventually vanished. If he closed his eyes tight enough and pulled his knees in just a bit closer, he could pretend it was someone else's arms bringing him comfort.

"I miss you, mom." His voice broke as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I wish you were here. I don't know what I'm doing."

He let himself sit for awhile longer, until the sun had shifted overhead and sweat poured into his eyes, making the burn he'd already felt unbearable. 

Michael stood and stretched, wiping his face free of tears. He squinted and shielded his eyes as he looked up to the sky. Nothing but the blazing sun was visible now, blue sky turned almost white with the power of it. He chuckled and wiped his face once again. He's spent most of his life pissed at the universe, angry for the cards he'd been dealt, jealous of the lives Isobel and Max had been able to lead. As the resentment became more and more difficult to bear, Michael leaned into it, no longer using his experiences as a shield, but embracing it, using it as an excuse to fuck up time and time again, an excuse to expect nothing from people, to be continuously disappointed in the human race.

"I'm gonna do better, mom." His mom had helped the first humans she met. She took care of them as best she could, showed them kindness and received kindness in return. The shit Michael had been through wasn't okay, for anyone, ever. His mom's fate was atrocious, proof of the cruelty some people are capable of. But he couldn't keep blaming his past as he ruined his future.

"I'm gonna do better."

He climbed back into the truck with a new sense of purpose. He still didn't know what he'd say to Alex, how he'd explain what he was thinking and feeling, but he had to try. At least try.

After a bit of last minute research while he sat at the diner, Michael discovered at least 8 Air Force bases existed across the state. Without a clue as to which one Alex might be stationed at, Michael figured he'd start with the closest one and go from there. 

As the sky turned a dark blue, Michael pulled into the parking lot of what looked like his kind of place. Clearly a locals dive bar with a neon flashing sign and a lot filled with trucks and beaters. He pulled open the outer door and groaned, reading the sign announcing an open mic night while the screeching from inside battered his ears. One drink and a little food and he'd be out of there.

He made his way to the bar, pushing through groups of people standing and chatting. Michael noted the number of men and women standing around in uniform, others wearing clothes advertising their branches. Michael chuckled. He must have ended up closer to a base than he thought he did.

"Alright, y'all. Shut up! This one took a lot of poking and bribing but we did it. Y'all put your hands together for the Cap!"

The room erupted, glasses banging on tabletops, whistles ricocheted off the walls. Michael grimaced as he finally made it to his destination, bartender friendly but screaming, getting him a drink at rapid speed. A stool opened up at the end of the bar, slightly separated from the craziness that was the rest of the place. He took a seat and grabbed a napkin, taking a pen out of his pocket and listing the Air Force bases he remembered from his google search earlier that day. 

The buzz of a microphone and the clearing of a throat caused the room to hush. Michael couldn't help but wonder who had that kind of power over this fuck nuts group of military. When he craned his neck, he almost fell out of his seat. His hair was a bit shorter, regulation cut with all traces of facial hair gone. He looked strong, a bit imposing, with those broad shoulders, strong forearms, biceps bulging beneath his one size too small t shirt. The lights made him look olive, a beautiful tan that accentuated his eyes, cheekbones, jaw line.

Michael watched as Alex took a deep breath before plucking on the guitar strings, eyes closed and peace echoing through the room. 

_Every thought that I repent_

_There's another chip you haven't spent_

_And you're cashing them all in_

Michael listened in awe, pen pressing too hard into the napkin, ripping it down the middle. Alex's voice was smooth and soft. If you breathed too loudly, you couldn't hear it, meant only for those who worked hard to deserve it. The song ended too quickly, Michael feeling both calmer than he'd been in weeks and revved up enough to fling himself into the abyss. 

But as Alex smiled and the room burst back to life with love, all Michael could do was applaud and whisper, "Alex."


	6. Chapter 6

Michael watched as Alex shyly made his way through the rambunctious audience, laughing at the shoulder squeezes and surprise hugs, whistles and cheers. Michael kept his gaze firmly on Alex's form, the epitome of happiness and confidence. Michael couldn't help but smile, in awe of the man Alex had become, while an odd niggle tickled the back of his brain wondering how he missed it. 

Alex finally reached the bar and took a seat offered to him, another pat on the back as he waited, cheeks flushed and thrilled, for the bartender to make his way over. As his heart pounded in his throat, Michael took the first few steps toward his future.

"I didn't know you sang like that."

Although the room continued to burst with life and noise, Michael could hear a pin drop. He watched as Alex's shoulders rose towards his ears, the muscles around his jaw suddenly visible, his fingernails practically clawing for purchase on the wooden bar top. A sinking feeling, like a brick made of steel, appeared suddenly in Michael's gut. 

Alex swallowed as Michael watched his throat bob with the effort. "What the hell are you doing here?"

With nerves pinching at his skin, he couldn't help but fall into old habits. Shrugging and leaning casually on the bar, he said, "can't I visit a friend?"

"Is something wrong?"

Discomfort joined in with the nerves, pushing Michael to switch his weight, shuffling from foot to foot. "Uh, no," he cleared his throat. "Nothing's wrong."

When Alex's eyes met his, Michael took a step back. Alex's dark, gorgeous eyes that had been brimming with excitement minutes ago, were now empty, a mirror for Michael to stare at himself in shame.

"Maria's okay?"

Nodding, Michael took a sip of his beer, doing his best to control his shaking hands. 

Looking back over the bar, Alex asked again, "so what are you doing here?"

 _Tell the truth_ , a voice that sounded suspiciously like Isobel angrily whispered in his head. He felt vulnerable, too open, and in a way too public a place. "I just wanted to talk. Some things happened since you left, so I was-"

"Since I left?" The scoff that flew from Alex should have been expected but it still made Michael flinch. "I've been gone less than a week, Guerin."

"Yeah," Michael let some of his frustration escape through his mouth. "And some shit has changed." 

With eyes rolling, Alex just shook his head and picked at a dent in the wood. Desperation began gnawing at Michael; the fear that he wouldn't get a chance to explain threatening to knock him right on his ass. 

"Alex, please," his voice broke as plead. "Can we go somewhere and just talk?"

"Hey, Cap!" The bartender finally arrived with an overflowing beer. "From one of the guys. Everyone's offering to buy you drinks so you just let me know when you want a refill, alright?"

Alex smiled at the man and offered a kind, "thanks, Matt," before taking a sip. Michael watched the beer foam cling to Alex's upper lip. Watched his tongue slide out and lick it away, Alex's eyes shut tightly as he did it.

"No."

Pulled from his reverie, Michael leaned in, confused. "What?"

The sigh Alex set free could be heard above the music now filling the space. "No, I won't go anywhere with you to talk. Go home."

His head began to shake without his permission, revealing his feelings before his words could. "No. No, Alex. I'm not leaving before we talk."

"What do you want to say?" Alex's voice was tight, clipped and loud. All of the tension he'd had back in Roswell filled his body once again. Michael realized with a disgusted jolt that it was him. He was the weight, the stress, the pressure. Michael.

"Go home to Maria, Michael. Live your life. Be happy."

"I'm not happy without you!" That desperation was back and bursting at the seams. It was taking concentrated effort not to reach out and pull Alex to him in the middle of the fucking place. 

Throwing his head back, Alex laughed at the ceiling. It wasn't genuine, or cruel. It was empty. He held his beer, knuckles turning white as his fingers slid on the glass from his grip and turned so the two men were practically chest to chest. Alex's breath smelled like mint and honey. Some things don't change. 

"I have been in love with you since I was seventeen. I have had the shit kicked out of me, I've been humiliated, I've been to war, lost my fucking leg, been abandoned and left alone and do you know what I thought through it all?" Michael looked away as tears filled his eyes but Alex chased his gaze in his fury. "That it was all my fucking fault, Michael. I don't get nice things. I don't get the man I love. I don't get to be happy. I don't deserve it. And every second that I stayed in Roswell, I was reminded of that."

Michael's chest rose too quickly with the effort to pull in air. Alex was too close, the bar was too hot, he felt too guilty. 

"I have been out of Roswell for days, Michael, days! And I feel better. I'm valued, I'm treated with respect, I have friends. I'm happy."

As Michael wiped at his face, Alex quickly took hold of his hand and held it between them, both men staring at the perfectly formed appendage. "I'm so grateful that you're healing, in every way possible." Michael believed him, believed that despite his anger, Alex still cared. "I'm glad that you have your family, the Ortechos, Maria, to love you and take care of you. You deserve it all."

Michael bit his lip while his throat burned with the effort of holding back more tears. Alex dropped his hand unceremoniously and took a step back.

"But so do I."

Before he could agree and beg a bit more, Alex said, "go back to Roswell," before nodding formally and getting lost in the crowd. 

Michael pushed his way back out of the bar, gasping for breath as he leaned against his truck. His gasps became agonized screams as he slammed his hand into the metal over and over again. 

While Michael was learning he could never be truly happy without Alex, Alex was discovering his key to happiness was staying away from Michael.


	7. Chapter 7

By some undeserved miracle, Michael had made it to a shitty motel a few miles up the road. He got a room without speaking, the tiny little man on the other side of the check-in desk barely paying attention to his new customer. The light in his room flicked on and Michael was met with a sight he was all too familiar with: too small bed, box tv, fluorescent lights and a musty smell with a hint of garbage. 

He sighed as he tossed his bag onto the bed before heading into the shower, looking forward to washing away the disaster of a day along with his dirt and sweat. While he waited for the hot water to kick on, he chanced a look in the mirror, scoffing at his reflection. The burn in his eyes should have warned him how red and bloodshot they were, dark circles underneath in support. His hair, impossible to tame on a good day, was sticking up in every direction from the help of the wind and his own, idle hands. He looked exhausted, defeated. Habit found him gnawing at his lower lip but he flinched at the pinch of pain, realizing he'd been biting the same spot for hours. His fingers moved to soothe the ache but did nothing but come away bloody. 

Finally steam filled the small, moldy space. Michael climbed into the shower, eyes closed tight, tipping his head back into the too hot spray. He slowly worked through the tangled curls, wondering what it would be like to have someone do this for him. His hands dropped as more tears rose and the burn returned to his throat. It took no effort for the image of Alex to appear. To imagine coming home after a long day of work, plopping down on the couch, head resting in Alex's lap, and falling asleep to the feel of gentle, nimble fingers combing through his hair.

He turned his face into the water, grimacing at the heat but welcoming the pain.

How did he do this? How did he allow Alex to get so far away? To fool himself into believing he could live a life with only Alex's friendship. That he could survive without Alex at all.

He dried himself off with the equivalent of a hand towel and sat at the foot of the bed, naked and staring at the blank television. A loud beep echoed in the silent room and Michael practically broke an ankle flinging himself toward his pants where his phone remained tucked in the back pocket.

_What's happening?_

The ache of disappointment, seeing Isobel's name and not Alex's was overwhelming. He laid back in the bed, legs hanging over the side and tapped his phone against his bare chest, completely unsure of how to move at all, let alone move forward.

His fingers moved unconsciously across the screen and seconds later, a nervous sounding Isobel answered her phone.

"Michael?"

Sighing, he whispered, "yeah."

The sound of a chair moving against tile met Michael's ear, followed by anxious nails tapping. She must've been at home, in the kitchen. Michael closed his eyes and smiled, imagining being with her now. 

"Tell me."

With a deep breath, Michael started telling his sister his tale, feeling brave enough, or maybe just broken enough, to include the field and thoughts of his mother, too. When he was done, feeling wrung out and too weak to hold the phone any longer, Isobel asked, "did you think this would be easy, Michael?"

He blinked, mind searching through the scenarios he had played out, not just from today or the days before, but from months ago, years ago, his teen years. They all ended the same way. 

"He's the one, Iz. Isn't it supposed to be?"

She chuckled, a kind, warm laugh that brought a small smile to his face. "I wouldn't have a clue. But, I doubt it."

Rolling over, Michael tucked the phone between the pillow and his ear, pulling the stiff sheets up to his shoulders and burrowing in as much as he could.

"I don't know what to do, Iz."

"Yeah you do," she said, as she stifled a yawn. "You're just afraid to do the work. So grow up, get over it and go for it. You're never gonna be with him if you don't try."

"I did try."

"Did you?" 

The curtain rippled with the AC, stained and old, but he could tell it used to be pretty once. 

"Not yet."

Isobel's smile could be heard through the phone. "I love you, Michael. And I'm proud of you."

Nodding to no one, he said, "I love you, too." 

Tomorrow was a new day. Another chance. A fresh start.

He'd try tomorrow.

*********

Alex had left the bar not long after Michael, unable to keep the smile plastered on his face for too long.

He'd driven back to the barracks, hands wrapped so tightly around the wheel they ached. 

Slamming open the door to his apartment, he got changed, throwing everything with a little too much strength around his room. 

He was proud of himself, dammit. He was happy.

But it was Michael. The hazel eyes with the specs of gold, and the wild curls just begging for Alex's hands to card through them. The second he heard Michael's voice, something unlocked. 

Michael was home.

But home isn't always safe or kind or thoughtful. 

It can be comforting, dependable, fun even. But its unpredictability scared the shit out of him.

Mostly undressed, with no shirt and his pants wrapped around his prosthetic, Alex fell to the edge of his bed, head resting in his hands. It had taken every ounce of strength he could muster to ask for the transfer, to leave Roswell one more time and walk away from the only people he ever loved. To walk away from Michael, again.

His chest hurt as he leaned down to untangle his pants. 

"Argh," he threw them against the wall when he finally got them loose. Alex's phone had fallen out of the back pocket, landing with a light thud on the ground. He picked that up, too, and threw it into the wall. Fueled with anger and regret and the almost constant pressure of his old friend, guilt, his eyes scanned the room for anything to hurl. The book from his nightstand hit the wall, landing with a ripped cover and splayed pages. His alarm clock popped open after meeting the plaster, laying on the floor, everything meant to be kept inside sitting helplessly on the rug. 

A few more of his belongings met their maker as he screamed with each release. Eventually those screams turned to cries which became a choking sob. He slid down the wall, cradling his knees to his chest, thoughts racing so quickly his head pounded and his stomach swirled.

It was Michael. It was always supposed to be Michael.

But how do you love someone who tears you apart? 


	8. Chapter 8

Alex was exhausted.

It had been three days since his shocking run-in with Michael at the Barrel and he was still reeling from the surprise. Michael had looked terrible and somehow still beautiful. It was clear something was happening to him, tearing at him, maybe testing him. But Alex's brain kept screaming against his heart, demanding he put himself first and remember how liberated he'd felt the first week of his new assignment. Open arms had welcomed him in Texas; a more relaxed group of soldiers who genuinely enjoyed their work and looked forward to a leader who knew their shit. He'd gotten to know his crew quickly over too many beers, laughs and smiles.

It was the most relaxed he'd felt in years.

Then Guerin showed up and he can't think. 

After a grueling day hunched over a keyboard, being handed the most unrealistic assignment he’d ever seen, then promptly kicking its ass, he was able to head home. He grabbed his mail, letting a monster of a yawn rip, before heading inside, dropping everything on his kitchen table and taking a shower.

With the hot water rinsing the days stress away, Alex once again found his thoughts drifting to Michael. A small fire of worry was beginning to burn in his belly but Alex couldn’t pinpoint its cause. Was he concerned that Michael was still in Texas or upset he may have gone home? Was he bothered that Maria may be in Roswell, alone and completely unaware of Michael’s plans or was he more afraid that his best friend knew her fiance left her back home to see him?

Alex turned off the water and sat with his hand on the faucet, water dripping rhythmically into the shower below. Pulling himself up, he wrapped a towel around his waist and wiped a hand across the mirror, revealing his fluorescent lit reflection. He looked at himself, staring into his own eyes. The desperation for clarity, for answers, about his life, his future, was starting to drive him a little mad. Shaking his head, Alex knew he wouldn’t find a solution in his tiny bathroom mirror.

After a quick meal, he took Buffy out for her walk, grumbling about the unforgiving heat. He smiled as he watched her tail wag excitedly, bounding up to every shrub and flower as though just meeting it for the first time, so full of curiosity. As she circled up, Alex looked up at the stars, thousands of brilliant specs visible in the clear, Texas sky.

“Is he looking at the stars now, too, Buffy,” he asked, not looking away from the beautiful canvas. “God, no wonder he wanted to go.”

His heart stuttered when he thought about it, imagining Michael not just gone from his life but gone from the entire fucking planet. It was unfathomable. Alex took a giant, selfish comfort knowing that his feet were planted on the same soil as his, breathing the same air.

But that was never his call.

“C’mon, girl. Let’s go to bed.”

Buffy ran into the bedroom as soon as he’d freed her of her leash, to claim the center of the bed, no doubt. Sighing, Alex leaned against the door, head tilted back and eyes closed. The silence that crawled into his ears left him biting his lip and taking a long, deep breath. He was happy here. He liked his job. He loved his apartment. Buffy was the best. No one recognized his name. No one judged him by anything other than his resume. He was singing and performing again. He was happy.

But alone. And without Michael.

Roughly wiping a hand across his face, Alex pushed off from the door, wincing as a sharp pain pushed into his knee and up to his hip. Before heading into the bedroom, Alex grabbed the few envelopes of mail, flipping through to see if anything other than a bill had graced his mailbox.

Heat flushed his face as his pulse pounded. He recognized the messy scrawl, could picture it being written hastily by a man pushing himself to send the letter before he backed out of it. Alex’s mouth lifted at the corner as his fingers gently peeled open the seal.

With a shaking hand, Alex pulled out a small piece of paper. It had an Embassy Motel logo in the bottom corner and was wrinkled like Michael had thrown it away at one point, maybe more. Alex moved further into the kitchen, placing the letter on the counter directly under a light and smoothed the paper out as best he could.

_I should have known you could sing like that._

_I should have known you have so many people who like you at work._

_I should have known you left for Texas in the first place._

_I should have been the one to tell you I proposed._

_I should have apologized more._

_I should have thanked you more._

_I should have listened more._

_I should have been a better friend._

_I should have been there for you when Forrest left._

_I should have accepted your guitar._

_I should have left Roswell with you._

Alex’s vision swam as he read the note, fingers swiftly moving to his cheek to wipe away a tear before it could damage the paper any further. He read it over and over again, a warmth blooming slowly in his chest, realizing that Michael was filled with some of the same regret he felt.

He lifted the paper up, relishing in the knowledge Michael's hands had been here, too, not so long ago. The light landed just right showing Alex there was writing on the other side.

He let a small sob escape while his hand moved to his chest, overwhelmed by the simplest of words.

_I shouldn’t have proposed._

_I never look away. Not really._

_I’m gonna keep trying._

_I hope you'll let me keep trying._

_Love,_

_Michael_

Alex fell asleep that night with one hand resting on Buffy’s soft center, the other clutching his tear-stained note.


	9. Chapter 9

_Texas is hot. New Mexico is hot but Texas is hot._

_I like it here, though. I think I get the appeal. I grabbed breakfast at this hole in the wall dive yesterday morning. The waitress barely looked at me when I ordered, never said anything more than “mhmm” to me. When I stood up to leave, she dropped a to-go coffee and a muffin on the table and winked. She said, “you’ll figure it out, honey.” I guess that’s the Southern hospitality I’ve been missing._

_Made me think, though. What the hell did I look like for her to say that?_

_I think it’s written all over me, Alex. How fucking broken I am. Every part of me, you know. The foster families, the drinking, the relationships, education, career. I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time._

_Last night I couldn’t sleep it was so fucking hot and the motel’s AC is a disaster (if I stick around long enough maybe I can get the nutjob who runs the place to let me take a look.) Anyway, I just kept thinking about everything I’d change if I could. If I could change parts of my life, what would I change?_

_It kept me up all fucking night, Alex._

********

_You never talk about your mom. Why?_

_Do you know why she left? When did she leave? Do you remember? Do you know where she is? Is she okay? Are you angry? Sad? Indifferent?_

_I really miss my mom today. I don’t really get it. I knew her for, like, ten minutes, but I created an entire person out of that. I need advice and I think if I call Isobel one more time, she’s gonna change her number._

_I miss Iz. I think I put too much pressure on her, though, to be my sister, friend and mom sometimes. She’s had to bail me out more times than I’ll ever admit. What have I done for her?_

_But we’re family._

_Just like you, Alex. You’re my family. You’ve got to know that._

_I wish I asked about your mom before now._

_I hope you’re having a good day._

_Love,_

_Michael_

********

_I got a job today. Mechanic, of course, but at a real shop. They’re gonna have to show me how to use all the tech they’ve got but I’m actually, I don’t know. Excited? The hours are steady, and the pay is more than I’ve ever made. The guys seem like assholes, but we’ll see. Not judging a book or whatever._

_I think I made a friend, too. I went to the library and there was this older guy reading a magazine about mechanical engineering. I asked if it was any good and that was that. We talked for a long time. Turns out the dude’s a genius. Went to MIT, worked for NASA for a while, that’s why he’s in Texas. God, Alex, the shit this man knows. Incredible. I’m taking him out for coffee soon._

_I’m feeling okay. I hope you are, too._

_Love,_

_Michael_

*********

_Yesterday was a very bad day. Do you have those days? Where nothing goes right or where you just feel like absolute shit?_

_I dreamt about my mom, this little 50’s style house, us sitting in the kitchen eating dinner. I was talking non-stop, I think about homework, and she just smiled and smiled. I woke up shaking like a leaf and sweating my ass off. I sobbed, Alex, when I remembered it wasn’t real._

_I’m lonely. And I know it’s my fault that I’m by myself. I made so many mistakes, took a thousand left turns that should have been rights, I know. But I’m trying to do the right thing and I’m just so tired and lonely._

_But I’m trying._

*********

_My date with Harold was a success! Did I mention Harold is 78? I thought Sanders was bad, forget it. This man could scare a coyote. But he’s brilliant, Alex. I get him. He’s not talking about his past much, at least not outside of his work. He reminds me of us like that, hiding something. Maybe it’s sad or shameful. I don’t know. I hope he’ll trust me enough one day to tell me._

_We had about 8 cups of coffee and probably wrote on every napkin the place had. He thinks I should apply to school again. There’s no way I could get a loan but maybe there’s some scholarships out there? I’m too chicken shit to look. I don’t wanna get my hopes up to have something else slip through my fingers._

_My job’s good, though. I haven’t made this much money, ever. And the guys aren’t all bad. They’re mostly just young idiots trying to figure out what they’re doing. Like me, I guess._

_How is work? Are you enjoying it? I listened to Bright Eyes the other day. Thought of you. I hope you’re still singing._

_Love,_

_Michael_

********

_Are you there?_

_Do you ever think about me?_

********

_Valenti helped me find a therapist. Nice lady. Called me on my bullshit the second I walked through the door. I liked her right away. We talked about foster care mostly. That hurt like hell. I don’t know if I’ll keep going but it felt good to try._

_I’m cutting back on the drinking, by the way. I can’t remember if I told you that yet. It’s been really hard, especially with the guys from the garage going out all the time. But I’m managing. When I start getting that itch for something a bit destructive, I’ve been calling good ‘ol Harold. He’s a pain in my ass but he gets it._

_How are you holding up? Still happy? Still singing? Do you need anything? From me?_

_I think I dreamt about you the other night. I couldn’t remember it the next day, but it felt like a good one._

_Love,_

_Michael_

********

_I need you to say something to me, Alex. Anything._

_Tell me to leave you alone. Give me a phone number to text. A few minutes to talk with you. Something._

_Anything._

_I feel like I’m floating in nothing. I need you to set me free._

_Love always,_

_Michael_

********

_Isobel called me and asked when I was coming home._

_Is Roswell home? Is Texas home?_

_I don’t know anymore._

_But I do know I’d like to be where you are. If you’ll let me._

_I love you._

_Michael_


	10. Chapter 10

The letter stared up at Alex, each word yanking at the muscles in his chest.

_Is Roswell home?_

_I’d like to be where you are._

_I love you._

His fingers slid over the sentences, reading the note for the hundredth time. He’d memorized the words, seemingly so simple and yet so powerful. Alex had declared Michael his family once, but it had been the wrong time, probably the wrong thing to say anyway. He’d spent so many months convincing himself that he’d created a love story for them that didn’t exist. Michael had never felt the same deep, all-consuming love Alex felt. Maria made Michael happy, completed his life in a way that Alex never could. When he’d finally gotten undeniable proof of that fact, it was the final kick in the ass he needed to leave. For the last time.

But Michael had followed.

And Michael had stayed.

And Michael had sent him a letter a day for a month.

And Michael said I love you.

And Michael was, without a shadow of a doubt, the love of his life.

He dropped his head to his hands with a groan and shut his eyes so tight a few bursts of white appeared behind the lids.

“You look like shit.”

Alex forced himself to relax and quickly pocketed the letter, careful not to crumple it more than it already was. Casually, he reached for his beer and took a sip.

“Thanks, Myers.”

“No problem, Manes.”

Smiling, Alex shook his head. Myers, or Dylan, was another Captain for another security team. They tended to work closely, making sure to share intel while not stepping on each other’s toes. Alex liked him. The guy was honest, had a great work ethic, was funny and chill. A friend.

They sipped their beers in silence, the ruckus of the bar pounding in Alex’s ears. He’d come here for a new perspective, hoping that, magically, answers would suddenly appear.

The first few letters Michael had sent were on Embassy Motel paper. Alex had found the address in seconds, heart pounding when he realized the place was less than 10 minutes from his apartment. Almost daily, he’d march out to his Jeep, keys making large indentations in his palm, with a plan to drive to the motel and have it out.

But inevitably, he’d sit in the Jeep and talk to himself instead.

What would he say? Get out of Texas? Come home with me? How’s Maria? I love you? Most of the time he’d just thump his head into the steering wheel until he had enough energy to slump back inside. A few times, he’d cried so hard his eyeballs hurt.

“Have I told you about Carolyn yet?”

Pulled from his stupor, Alex shook his head, moving his finger through the condensation on the glass, mindlessly drawing an M.

“She was fucking incredible, man. Not just beautiful, which she was of course. But hella smart. Could talk circles around me and all my buddies. Sexy as hell. And kind.”

Myers bit his lip and looked down at his beer. Alex watched as his friend fell into memories, giving him time to swim his way out.

“She scared the shit out of me, Manes.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I would have done anything for her, given her anything. Given up anything. I was young and convinced myself that was fucked up, you know. I had to think about me.”

Alex watched the emotions scan over his face. A small uptick of his mouth, tiny pools of water gathered in his eyes. Alex couldn’t help but wonder how transparent he must have been for him to earn Dylan’s story.

“I ran into her last year. She looks exactly the same. She’s a nurse now. Said she loves her job.” He looked at Alex and gave a watery smile. “With a husband and two perfect kids.”

Alex swallowed past the lump in his throat. Dylan’s story landed too close to home.

“I was scared of loving too much, Manes. Like a fucking idiot.”

Nodding, Alex patted him on the back and raised his drink in cheers. “To fucking idiots.”

Dylan chuckled but shook his head. “Nah, that’s just me, man. I bet you still have a chance.” He raised his eyebrow in challenge as he tapped Alex’s glass. Alex’s free hand cradled the note in his pocket, while he shared a drink with his comrade in arms.

*******

Michael had a long fucking day.

The guys had decided that it was too nice out to stay cooped inside, so he’d ended up taking care of double the cars he usually did. They’d gone out for a drink; a weekly routine Michael just didn’t have the energy for that night. 

Isobel had texted earlier that day, asking him for the millionth time to go back to Roswell. He knew, no matter how things turned out in Texas, that Roswell wasn’t home anymore. He could envision a different future now, a bit muddy and unclear, but it was there. Harold had practically thrown college applications in his face over their last lunch date and there was a spot opening up at the garage for a head mechanic he had his eye on. Roswell felt like taking too many steps backwards.

He parked the truck and hopped out, stretching back and feeling his lower back crack with relief. He strode across the parking lot, squinting at his phone, texting Isobel a half-hearted promise to at least visit Roswell within the next few weeks.

With all the money he’d been bringing in, he had enough for security and first months rent on an apartment, but he’d been dragging his feet. This run down, piece of shit motel had become home, felt comfortable.

But that was the problem. If every time Michael was faced with an opportunity he slid back into comfortable spaces, he’d never get himself out of the hole he’d dug.

He smiled as he imagined Harold tossing a pile of apartment rentals in his face next week.

“Hey.”

Michael froze and lifted his head. His phone hit the gravel but thankfully stayed in one piece.

“Alex.”


	11. Chapter 11

Michael watched Alex stand uncomfortably from across the room. A spike of embarrassment pierced his throat as he looked around the small space. Not only was he living in a lousy hotel room, he’d left it a disaster that morning, waking up late and rushing off to work.

With the subtlety of a rhino, he tried clearing away some of his dirty clothes and dishes, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks.

“I’m sorry to just stop by.”

Michael paused his cleaning, a pair of dirty boxers hanging from his fingers. He swallowed as he shook his head. “It’s okay.”

The silence took over again as both men stared at one another, doing their best attempts at mind reading.

“Do you wanna sit down or-?” Michael gestured to the one chair sitting in the corner, thankfully only covered by a jacket hanging over the back.

“Sure,” Alex nodded and sat down, rubbing his hands down his legs. “I, uh. I’m not sure what I’m doing here.”

Michael took a seat on the edge of the bed, resting his arms on his knees, eyes firmly on the floor. “Okay.” His knee began to bounce impatiently, the longer they sat just sharing air. Seeing Alex was overwhelming, a tightness in his chest he didn’t realize he’d been carrying around simply fell apart with Alex so close.

“How’s Maria?”

Michael looked up then and watched as Alex’s soldier façade slid into place. Before it could take hold, Michael shook his head. “Fuck off.”

“Excuse me?” Alex lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

With a snort, Michael threw his hands out to the side. “I’m here, aren’t I? Still in Texas. Sending you letters every day, despite the fact that you never respond. I told you I got a real job, I made some friends, I’m looking at school, and you start out with Maria?”

“She’s your fiancée, Guerin!”

“No, she’s not! Not anymore and I bet you fucking knew that!”

Alex made a noise of dismissal as he stood and headed to the door. “You leaving me again, Alex?”

Hand frozen on the handle, Alex closed his eyes, taking slow, purposeful breaths. His hands were sweaty and shaking slightly. “You proposed to Maria and then you said you love me.”

He could hear Michael’s sharp breaths from across the room. “Yeah, I did.” Groaning, Michael stood and gestured to the chair even though Alex couldn’t see. “Can you just sit back down, please? Can we talk like normal fucking people?”

“Can we?” Alex looked at him with pleading eyes, lost and desperate for a life raft. “I don’t know how to do this anymore.”

“Just sit down, Alex.”

Nodding, Alex went back to the chair, eyes squarely on Michael.

“I’m sorry, Guerin.”

“Me, too.”

Michael pulled at a loose string on the comforter, stealing glances at a stoic Alex who was looking steadfastly out the window.

“I’m so proud of you. I should have started with that.” He shifted his gaze to Michael and a small, genuine smile appeared. “Are you happy?”

Michael thought about it, thinking of laughs with the guys over the cards last week, opting for a coke over a beer at the bar, filling out the college applications with Harold. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good.”

Holding his breath, Michael sent out a silent prayer, hoping Alex could read him as usual and take the lead.

“I guess I should get going. I’ve got some more work to do tonight.”

“That’s it?”

With his hands dug into his pockets and his eyes on his boots, Michael noticed how small Alex could make himself look. He tried to swallow past the disappointment in his throat but felt his defenses rising regardless.

“I don’t know what to say, Michael.”

“Why did you come here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

Alex shook his head with a scoff and walked out the door, struggling to find the right key to his car.

“Alex, c’mon! I’m still here, dammit! I didn’t leave.” Michael felt no shame jogging across the parking lot, yelling at full voice. “Why doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Because you already left me!”

Alex had spun around to face Michael but took a few steps back at his own words, surprise causing a grimace to form across his soft features.

He took a deep breath as Michael braced for whatever came next. “You told me, more than once, that we weren’t good for each other. I waited for you and you went to her. I asked you if you’d leave, you said no. I tried to be your friend, but I had to witness your perfect relationship. You chose a life that barely included me, Michael!”

“How many times did you think you could walk away from me before I stopped waiting?” Michael’s voice was small and broken. He felt the little hope his heart had held onto slip out through his mouth. “You weren’t there when I needed you.”

“You’re right. I was getting my fucking leg blown off.”

“You left me behind!”

“You were already pushing me away, Michael!”

He threw his head back, breeze blowing his curls into his face. With a groan, he asked, “how? By trying to make money? By trying to spend every minute I could with you?”

Scoffing, Alex replied, “oh please. By the time I left you were fighting everyone that looked at you the wrong way and stealing endless amounts of shit you didn’t need. I came back and you were doing the same fucking thing!”

“’Cause I had nothing, Alex! All I had was sex and booze and the tiny bit of money I could scrape together. And then you came back and flipped everything upside down, making me feel invincible one minute and like a piece of shit you stepped in another.”

It was the salty taste that hit his lip that cued Michael into his tears. Roughly, he wiped his face and turned his back, shaking his head at the motel he called home. “Look at this, Alex,” he said, arms thrown wide. “This is all I’ll ever be. And you’ll forever be ashamed of me.”

“I’ve never been ashamed of you, Michael.” Alex said it so quickly and with such confidence, Michael felt his resolve shake. “I’ve been trained to be ashamed of myself, to be wary of everyone around me. I can’t just turn that part of my brain off. I may have said or done some shitty things, but I’ve never been ashamed of you or what we had.”

“Had?”

Shrugging, Alex scanned the parking lot, hands back in the safety of his pockets. “Look at us, Guerin. We’ve spoken to each other twice in a couple of weeks and fought both times. What’s that say?”

“That we’re dramatic.”

They both chuckled at the unfortunate truth of it all. Alex cleared his throat and met Michael’s eye, the intensity causing a shiver to run down his spine. “You and Maria? You’re not together anymore, at all? Not just the engagement but- “

“We’re not together. At all.”

Alex nodded and Michael bit back the smile as he watched a blush climb across Alex’s cheeks. He was beautiful. “Is she okay?”

The warmth that blossomed in his chest for Alex could never be contained. He and Maria had broken Alex’s heart and yet, here he stood, giving Michael a chance to talk and worried about his oldest friend. “I don’t know for sure, but I think so. Isobel’s been spending a lot of time with her. Wine and kickboxing, apparently.”

Alex laughed. “I could get behind that.”

They stood quietly together, a few feet apart, listening to the trucks pass by on the highway. Michael didn’t know what to say but knew he didn’t want this moment to end.

“You love me?”

Alex had his head tilted to the side, disbelief and hesitation painted his features making him look ten years younger. Michael nodded, crossing his arms over his middle, feeling vulnerable and unprotected.

“Do you love me?”

Alex pushed his hair out of his face and squinted in Michael’s direction. “Always.”

“So, what now?”

Alex kicked a loose pebble across the parking lot and watched it until it stopped moving. “I think I don’t trust you, Michael. I’m, I don’t know, afraid that I’ll put myself out there for you and you’ll push me away or remember where I come from or choose someone else. Again.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Michael nodded. “Okay. I want to try to earn your trust. But it goes both ways. I’ve been doing everything I can to get my shit together, not just to be better for myself, but to be better for you, too. And I can’t help but picture you walking away from me again ‘cause I fucked up or disappointed you. I can’t keep losing you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Alex took a deep breath before pulling Michael into his arms, surrounding him with the most comforting hug of his life. “I missed you, Michael.”

Blinking to keep the tears at bay, Michael turned his head into the soft skin of Alex’s neck, breathing in his scent and committing it to memory, just in case it was all a dream. “I missed you, too.”

When Alex pulled back, he kept his hands on Michael and both men chuckled at the emotion pouring off of one another.

“I’d like you to meet, Harold.”

“I’d like you to come see me perform again.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”


	12. Chapter 12

“You need to relax, Michael.”

He held up another shirt to the light, checking it for stains, and throwing it with a grunt into the corner when he inevitably found one.

“He knows you and loves you anyway. Why are you freaking out?”

“I don’t know, Iz.” He sat at the end of his bed and looked at the few boxes stacked around the room. With Harold and Alex’s support, he’d found an apartment and finally made it to moving day. The nerves he felt was making him nauseous. “This feels like a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Isobel said softly. Michael could picture her eyes going big, head tilted with a kind smile. God, he missed her. “But for you. Not for you and Alex.”

“But it could be. It feels new and like he’s…”

“Like he’s what, Michael?”

He felt his cheeks flush as he bit his fingernail.

“Proud of me.”

Michael listened to Isobel breathe through the phone as he rolled his eyes at his own dramatics and began moving around the room again, finally just picking a shirt and throwing it on.

“Are you proud of yourself?”

He stilled and thought about it. The job, the apartment, the friends, Alex, the completed college applications. A confidence he hadn’t felt in a long time sat firmly in the center of his chest.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Isobel replied, her constant support flowing through the line and into his ear. “Just relax. It’s Alex. Have fun, eat something, bend with your knees, and call- “

“You ready?”

Michael pushed the phone further into his ear as though that would help him hear more clearly and felt every muscle in his face contract. “Who was that?”

Clearing her throat, Isobel quickly said, “no one.”

“Was that Valenti? Where are you that you’re with Valenti? It’s 8am!”

“I’ve gotta go, Michael. Say hi to Alex!”

“Isobel Evans don’t you dare-“ but he was greeted with dead air before he could finish his empty threat.

“Mother fucker!”

“Well good morning to you, too, sunshine.”

Alex stood in the doorway looking like he stepped off a J. Crew runway. His shirt was just this side of too small, and his black jeans accentuated all the right parts perfectly. Holding two cups of coffee, Alex carefully pushed his sunglasses into his hair with a free finger, eyebrows raised.

“Everything okay or do you greet all your free labor like this?”

“He’s a son of a bitch, you know that.”

Alex laughed and moved out of the way so Harold could get into the room. He sat with a loud groan in the rooms lone chair and held his hand out to Alex, waiting for a coffee he knew damn well wasn’t his. Michael smiled as he watched Alex hand over the cup without hesitation.

“You come to help or give me a hard time, Hal?”

The man looked affronted, taking a sip of his coffee. “Can I not do both?”

Michael scoffed as he leaned over to pick up the first box. “With your back, probably not.”

“Sit on a spike, Guerin.”

Alex laughed as he watched the banter volley, making Michael’s breath catch. There was something about Alex now, something that glowed from within, somehow made him more beautiful, more special.

“Alright, let’s get moving. Hal, you supervising?”

“Bet your ass. Bend with your knees next time, ya skinny bastard.”

Alex moved to his left picking up a large box, distracting Michael with the flex of his arms.

“You’re drooling, Michael.”

“You’re not dead yet, Harold?”

********

The move had been easy in the end, only a few boxes of clothes and files when all was said and done. The three men had treated themselves to lunch at the local dive, chatting animatedly and laughing at Michael’s expense when he shared his horror over Valenti and his sister.

“They could both do a lot worse, Michael.” Alex took a sip of his soda.

“Good looking guy _and_ a doctor? We should all be so lucky.” Harold waved at their waitress for his fourth cup of coffee. The man was a caffeine machine.

“You’ve never told me about your romantic life, Hal? Anyone special?” Michael had noticed he didn’t wear a wedding band but knew that didn’t mean much of anything.

“Not much to tell, son.”

Alex took a bite of his pancakes and asked in between bites, “were you married?”

The far-off look that crossed Harold’s eyes as he nodded had Michael setting down his silverware to pay attention. “Antonia.”

Resting his chin on his fists, Michael leaned in and asked, “how’d you two meet?”

“At NASA. She was a secretary for my boss for a few years. Never took anyone’s shit. I thought it was just about the sexiest thing in the world when she’d tell one of the guys to fuck off.”

They all chuckled, taking a minute to continue eating.

“I had an affair.”

With straws and forks to their mouths, Alex and Michael stopped, both too surprised by the sudden reveal.

“Okay.” Michael wasn’t sure what to say, what to do with unease that was working its way down his throat.

“We had the perfect life, the one everyone always wants. Perfect house, picket fence, dog. Looked just like Lassie.” He stared resolutely at his coffee as he lifted it to take a sip, Michael and Alex not daring to move.

“I don’t know why I did it, really. I think I thought I was bored at the time. Or deserved something more exciting? She was a good fifteen years younger than me, Sheila. Oh, she thought I was brilliant. Every gift I gave her made her giddy, every kiss made her blush. We fought like hell, too. Used to take whole chunks out of each other. But when we made up it was…something else. She made me feel alive.”

Michael noticed Alex begin to squirm in the seat next to him, leg bouncing up and down with his hand squeezed tightly around his glass.

“So, what happened? You left your wife?” Michael had no idea how he wanted this story to end.

“Antonia found out, as they always do. She kicked my ass to the curb. At first, I was relieved. It was out in the open, I could see what it was like to have a real relationship with Sheila. I was afraid of the changes but hopeful, too. I don’t know if that makes any damn sense.”

“It does,” Michael whispered, meeting his friends’ eye across the table and giving a small, supportive smile.

Harold smiled back and nodded. “Well it was a fucking disaster, Guerin. After just a few months I compared everything Sheila did to what Antonia would have done and it made me insane. She was just this, kid, you know? Antonia had been a woman. She was headstrong and independent, confident. Told ya exactly what she was feeling. Sheila was like a wet washcloth in the end. It was like I made a version of Sheila in my head that never actually existed.”

“So, what happened? Did you go back to Antonia?”

“I tried. I did everything I could think of. Sent flowers every day, cards, did her yard work, washed her car, begged and begged and begged.”

Hal sipped his coffee and Michael watched as his hands shook, even all these years later. “Turns out she liked being on her own. Said she never felt so free. Couple years later she met someone. They got married and started their own family.”

“Christ, Hal. I’m sorry.”

He snorted and lifted a finger pointing right at Michael. “I don’t need your pity, son. I did that to myself. Fucked it up all on my own and deserved everything I got. Just goes to show that the excitement in life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Sometimes simple is better.” Michael startled at Alex’s voice, surprised by its tone.

He watched, confused, as Alex laid some cash on the table, rushing out an apology before walking out of the diner. Michael was half standing, half leaning in their booth, watching through the window as Alex crossed the road, heading back to Michael’s place on foot.

“I’m sorry, Mikey.” Harold covered Michael’s hand with his own. “I didn’t mean to upset-“

“No, no it’s not you, Hal. Trust me. You alright on your own?”

Hal nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Go get him. Apologize for me though, okay?”

Michael gave his cheek a light pat before jogging out of the diner and practically getting hit by an eighteen-wheeler crossing the road. He yelled more than once, trying to get Alex to stop or at least slow down but to no avail.

Before Alex could climb into his Jeep, Michael had a hold of the door frame. “What was that about?”

“I’m not feeling good.”

“Bullshit.” With a wave of courage, Michael reached out and held his hand. “Talk to me, Alex.”

Alex stared at their joined hands for what felt like a lifetime before slowly sliding his free and stepping out of the Jeep. He closed the door and leaned against it, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Harold’s story hit close to home.”

Michael frowned. “How so?”

Biting his lip, Alex shrugged. “You don’t see the connection? Exciting and problematic versus simple and reliable?”

Michael’s eyes scanned the parking lot as his mind shuffled through Alex’s meaning. “I have no clue- “

“Maria, Michael. If we’re the problematic piece of that story then- “

“Then Maria’s the simple.”

Alex picked a point over Michael’s shoulder and stared. Michael lost time watching the bob of Alex’s throat as he processed his feelings.

“I guess I see what you mean.” Michael covered his eyes with his hand, blocking out the blazing sunlight. “But why are you upset?”

Alex stood straight and sighed, pulling out his car keys. “Harold chose Sheila.”

“Right.”

“But then realized Antonia was the one.”

Michael deflated as the pieces finally fit together. He shook his head but, before he could speak, Alex had climbed into his car and shut the door.

“Alex, wait.”

Through the cracked window, Alex muttered, “I’m always gonna be so fucking complicated, Michael. I’ll always be tied to your history, the worst parts of it. How long will it take you to decide you want simple again?”

Michael watched Alex drive away, feet glued to the asphalt.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, spinning to find Harold with a sad look on his face. “Don’t give up, kid. Show him you’re not afraid.” He gave Michael’s cheek a pat like he’d done to Hal just a few minutes before. “But I feel like the Captain’s not a flowers kind of guy so you’re on your own there.”

Michael couldn’t help but laugh as he bumped shoulders with Harold, heading into his new apartment.

Alex might keep trying to walk away but there was no way in hell Michael would let him this time.


	13. Chapter 13

After a shower and some serious self-doubt, Michael stood in the middle of his apartment and looked around. He barely had anything, just a chair and a bed with his boxes piled up. He and Alex had ordered a bunch of furniture that sat around in pieces waiting to be assembled. Stupidly, he’d been looking forward to it, not the manual labor part but the alone time with Alex.

He started to sift through a few boxes, nothing labeled and everything a complete mishmash, when a knock on the door had him standing with a groan. A sheepish Alex stood on the other side with a pizza and a six pack of coke.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Michael smiled at how bashful Alex seemed. “You wanna come in?”

With a nod, Alex stepped over the threshold and placed the pizza and drinks on the kitchen counter. He took a deep breath and turned to look Michael in the eye. “We have a lot to talk about, that I really want to talk about and that I also really don’t want to talk about. But I think that I should apologize, then we should eat, put together some of your furniture and _then_ , maybe, talk about the heavy shit.”

Michael chuckled and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Sighing with relief, Alex turned to the pizza box but was interrupted when Michael cleared his throat. “You’re already going out of order, Private.”

The smirk that crossed Alex’s mouth was downright sinful. “You caught that, huh?”

Crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow in invitation, Michael waited. His front faded as Alex walked toward him and put his hands on either side of Michael’s face.

“I’m sorry. I panicked. I got scared and so I did what I always do, what feels safest. I ran.” He moved his thumbs gently over the stubble on Michael’s cheeks, Michael’s eyes closing in the comfort of the feeling. “But I came back, Michael.”

He opened his eyes and smiled at the softness covering Alex’s face. “You came back.”

Dropping his hands, Alex dramatically took big, slow steps backwards toward the kitchen, eyes staying on Michael. “Am I forgiven?”

Laughing, Michael shook his head and said, “just bring the whole damn box over here. I’m starving.”

The hours passed quickly, both men chatting mindlessly about work and gossip. They had a small argument over Michael refusing to follow the instructions and them needing to go back and fix his mistakes more than once, but otherwise, the night went smoothly. Michael wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so domestic in his life.

And he loved it.

An entertainment center, coffee table and nightstand stood proudly in the center of the room. Michael clapped Alex on the back and handed him a drink. “Nice job, sir.”

Alex scoffed. “No thanks to you.”

“Don’t start again. We figured it out,” Michael pointed an accusing finger in Alex’s direction. They laughed together but Michael felt the unease sneaking into the space. The time had come for the talk and they both knew it, though neither seemed in a rush to start.

Trying to avoid it all, Alex had gone to the kitchen to rinse out the empty bottles and wash his hands, more than once it seemed. Michael refused to look away, afraid Alex might take his chance and run out. Pushing his hand through his hair, he realized that thought was exactly why they needed to talk.

“Have you noticed I’ve been staring at you all night?”

Alex dried his hands and shrugged. “I’m hot.”

Michael laughed. “Agreed. But, uh, I kept waiting for you to leave.”

The smile fell from Alex’s lips and Michael fought the urge to take back his words. Leaning against the counter, Alex folded his arms and nodded his head. “I get that.”

Michael slid down the wall, resting his head against the cool plaster. “I keep waiting for you to leave again.”

Alex sat in the lone chair and rested his arms against his thighs. “And I keep waiting for you to choose someone else.”

“I don’t know where to start, Alex. Our shit goes so far back.”

Michael picked at the skin around his fingernails, focusing on the tiny prick of pain in his hand instead of the pain threatening to suffocate him from the inside out.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Michael looked up and nodded, shifting a bit so he held his knee close to his chest.

“When you look at me-,” Alex bit his lip and looked at his clasped hands. “When you look at me, do you see me or…”

“Do I see your family?”

Alex gulped loudly as he nodded in agreement.

“For a while, back in Roswell, I had a hard time separating everything. It wasn’t that I blamed you or was angry with you, I just,” he swallowed. “You brought me to Caufield. You brought me to my mom. You were there when she died. Your family led the experiments and the murders.”

Michael pulled at the collar of his shirt, feeling like it was tightening up. “I didn’t blame you, but you were caught up in the bad shit. You reminded me of what I lost.”

Nodding again, Alex quickly wiped his face and looked away, face pale and impossibly sad.

“I don’t feel that way now, though.”

Alex risked a glance. “You don’t?”

Michael shook his head. “No. I just see you now. You’re nothing like them.”

The space between them felt wide but, still, Michael felt it shrink just a bit. A bubble of hope forming where a pit sat before.

“Why didn’t you stay with me?”

Alex’s face contorted. “You never asked me to.”

“I never…of course, I wanted you to stay!” Michael’s voice got loud without his permission but the idea that Alex had been waiting for a personal request for a decade was ridiculous.

“Well how would I know that, Michael?”

“How could you _not_ know that?”

“My father demolished your hand. You started stealing everything not nailed down. I joined the fucking military. You were drinking. A lot. You fucked half the town. Oh, and you told me you wanted to leave the fucking planet!”

“Hold on! You can’t use half that shit against me. Do you know how alone I felt when I found out you were leaving? My one comfort? The one person who made me feel safe, and you were going somewhere I couldn’t follow? Of course I didn’t cope, Alex! And what’s the right way to cope, by the way?”

“I didn’t want to leave you!”

“Well you fucking did!”

“I came back, ready to work through my shit to be with you. Why do I get no credit for coming back?”

“Because you were ashamed of me!”

“I told you already. I was never ashamed!”

“Bullshit!”

“I was fucking terrified, Michael! If my dad found out, what would he do? If he killed you, I would have died, too!”

The two men stood in the center of the room having gravitated toward one another like magnets. Michael broke first, fingers moving into Alex’s hair and pulling gently, tucking Alex’s tear-stained face in the space between his neck and shoulder. Alex’s hands moved to his back, pulling on his shirt, fingernails digging into his skin.

Michael thought he could stay like that forever.

“I just wanted to protect you.” Alex whispered, warm breath raising goosebumps on Michael’s skin. “If I was gone, if I wasn’t with you, he’d leave you alone.” Alex stood straight but rested his forehead against Michael’s. “I run because I’m scared. And I run to keep you safe. But I never wanted to be away from you. Never.”

Michael inhaled a shaky breath, clammy hands grasping Alex’s biceps far too tight. “I know that now. I know.”

“I’m exhausted, Michael.”

Lifting his hand to push Alex’s hair from his face, he dared to ask, “will you stay tonight?”

With no hesitation, Alex simply said, “yes.”


	14. Chapter 14

Michael woke up the next morning, warm and well rested. He stretched a bit, his back protesting against the work he did the day before, when the arm around his waist tightened and pulled him back.

The smile that broke across his face felt so good. Alex had stayed; he was still in Michael’s bed, still wrapped up with him. Sliding his hand beneath Alex’s, he interlocked their fingers and drew Alex impossibly closer.

“I haven’t slept that well in years.” Alex buried his nose in Michael’s curls, his sleep soft voice wrapping Michael in its comfort.

“Mhmm, me too.”

The AC ticked on causing a pleasant hum in the bedroom while sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the foot of the bed where their legs were tangled together under the safety of the blanket.

“I’m glad you stayed.”

“I’m glad you asked me to.”

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Alex mumbled, “Maria texted me last night.”

Michael’s heart gave a nervous leap at her name. Slowly, he turned around in Alex’s arms and couldn’t resist carding a hand through Alex’s hair. He looked so rested despite his obvious tension. It suited him.

“Is she okay?”

Alex smiled and gave a small nod, eyes closing with the feeling of Michael’s deft fingers.

“Are you okay?”

Cracking open one eye, he whispered, “I’m working on it.”

Michael traced Alex’s cheekbone, the roundness of his nose, thumb moving thoughtfully across his lower lip, finally brushing over the stubble growing quickly along his jaw.

“You know Forrest doesn’t bother me, right?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “That’s completely different.”

Michael pinched Alex’s side, chuckling at the yelp Alex made. “Why?”

The way Alex’s face changed had Michael pushing himself up the bed, back resting against the pillows. He kept his eyes on Alex and a hand firmly in his hair.

“Well there’s the obvious. No engagement.”

Michael cringed. “Yeah.”

“But Forrest was after you, after I knew you moved on. And he’s gone now. Completely. There’s no reason for him to be in our lives now, reminding either of us of that relationship. It was a clean break.”

Shaking his head, Michael said, “But I don’t get it. We both dated other people at the same time.”

Alex dropped his chin, no longer making the effort to keep eye contact. Michael slid back under the covers, resting his head on his pillow, nose almost touching Alex’s. His breath stuttered as he watched a tear escape from the corner of Alex’s eye, slipping down his temple and vanishing into the cotton.

“I chose to be with Forrest when I knew for sure I couldn’t have you. When you told me we were over.” He glanced up through his lashes at Michael, the pain radiating from him was unbearable. “You chose to be with Maria when I was desperate for you to choose me.”

Michael bit his lip as his eyes began to burn with his own tears. He tucked an arm under Alex and pulled him into his chest, burying his face in Alex’s soft hair and squeezing him tight. They rocked together gently, both crying and doing their best to soothe each other. Alex clung to the skin at Michael’s waist while Michael had practically pulled Alex onto him.

“I don’t know what to say.” Michael’s voice sounded small and cracked with regret. “I had my reasons, they made sense at the time.” He dropped a kiss to the crown of Alex’s head. “But right now, they all seem like complete bullshit. I’d do anything to take it all back.”

Tucking his face into the crook of Michael’s neck, Alex whispered, “I wish we left Roswell together. After high school.”

Michael nodded and kissed Alex’s forehead. “I always wanted to see California.”

“Mmm. Good schools.”

“Excellent music scene.”

“Perfect weather.”

“No bombs.”

Michael felt the wind get knocked out of him. He stared at the ceiling fan as it spun round and around, mind flooded with unwanted images of Alex, alone and across the world, thinking no one loved him as he bled out in the desert.

He flipped them over, arms bracketed on either side of Alex’s head. Lowering himself, he rubbed their noses together and closed his eyes. “We could still go.”

“Like on a vacation?”

Nodding, Michael sat up to straddle Alex’s lap. He sighed as Alex’s hands rubbed up and down his thighs. “We could. But I mean, like, we could move to California. Together.”

Alex’s hands stilled as his eyes searched Michael’s. “I’ve got another year to my contract. You just got an apartment. You were applying to schools here.”

“So, in a year then.” Michael shrugged, hoping it came off as cool as he was aiming for. “I can transfer credits to a Cali school. Once you’re not working for the Air Force you could get a remote job, I bet. Take freelance gigs while you work on your music. Think about it,” Michael slid his arms under Alex’s lower back and pulled him up, so they were sitting chest to chest, Michael still planted firmly in his lap. “Warm weather but not unbearably hot. So much sunshine. And I hear the people are super chill. We could go to the beach and get even more tan.” Alex laughed and placed a kiss under Michael’s jaw.

“I think you’d be happy there, Alex.”

“I think I’d be happy wherever you are, Michael.”

Beaming, he wrapped his arms around Alex’s neck and slowly bent down, looking for permission to kiss Alex for the first time in too long. They’d been more intimate in the last twenty-four hours than they’d been in years, but Michael still knew this was all balancing on a precipice. The wrong move and it may all topple.

Alex stretched his neck and closed the distance, placing a gentle, chaste kiss against Michael’s lips. Michael felt himself melt, Alex’s hands tightening around his waist to hold his weight and keep him close.

When they slowly pulled away, the skin of their lips holding on until the last possible second, foreheads still pressed together, Michael realized he couldn’t remember ever feeling so at peace.

Alex’s fingers crept under his chin and lifted Michael’s face. “We spend the next year starting over. Talking, rebuilding. We save up as much money as we can. You take a few classes. Then, in a year. California.”

Michael leaned back and quirked a playful eyebrow. “You wanna date me, Private?”

Alex laughed and threw Michael onto the bed below him.

“I just wanna love you, Michael.”


	15. Chapter 15

The knock came as Michael was pouring his third cup of coffee, glancing at the papers spread across his kitchen counter. The last six months in his own place had been pretty amazing. He’d been accepted to the local community college with the help of some grants and scholarships. The classes were simple but, fuck, he loved every second. He took on a full semester, two online classes and three in person. The advanced biology class was his favorite; the material he’d memorized years ago but the professor must have noticed how eager he was, giving Michael special little assignments. Nothing graded or held over him, things that the man thought Michael might find interesting and a bit more challenging.

He was reading one of the scholarly articles his instructor recommended when he’d been interrupted. He hurried to the door and almost fell over with surprise.

“You’re a lying liar.” Although her words were crisp, the smirk that crossed Isobel’s mouth was nothing but loving and happy. Michael let his cup float to the side while he pulled her into a hug, bringing her into the apartment. The tears that sprang to his eyes surprised him, but he was relived to see the same emotion reflected in Isobel.

Clearing his throat, Michael wiped his eyes and asked, “why am I a liar?”

She gave his shoulder a shove and started moving around the apartment, arms crossed as she assessed the space. “I can do a lot with this, you know. It’s so bright. Not very you.”

Michael shrugged, returning to his coffee and organizing his papers into a stack on the counter. “I’m a brand new me, don’t cha know? I’m a sunshine kind of guy now.”

Taking a seat on the couch, Isobel leaned forward with a bright smile. “Tell me about everything, Michael. How’s school? Work?”

He sat in the chair opposite her, a big monster of a thing that took him and Alex hours to choose at the furniture place. He smiled at the memory, the two of them arguing playfully about which material felt the nicest, which one was too squishy or not squishy enough, a few innuendos about comfortably fitting two people in the chair. The last few months were filled with innocent, happy memories like that one.

He grinned as he answered, “everything’s good. Really good.”

“You keeping up in school?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “I could teach the classes, Iz. But the instructors are nice, try to give me some extra stuff to study. The kids in the classes leave me alone, though I’d like to give some of ‘em a slap.”

“How’s, um, money?” Isobel tilted her head with a small grimace. “I mean, are you good between this place and your truck and school?”

“Yes,” he said with fake exasperation, “I’m fine. There’s food in the fridge, my truck’s running, my bills are paid.”

She sat back and crossed her legs, arms thrown casually over the back of the couch. “So, you weren’t bullshitting me. You’re doing fine.”

“I’m doing great, Iz.”

“And how about Alex?”

Lifting a mischievous eyebrow, Michael innocently asked, “what about Alex?”

Isobel rolled her eyes and stood, pouring herself a cup of coffee and making a face with her sip. “Jesus, heavy handed with the scoop, Michael.” She dug around in his fridge to find milk, pouring so much in, it spilled over the sides. “Don’t be cute with me. What’s going on with Alex? Last time we talked you just kept saying it was good.”

“It is good.”

“But was is _it_ exactly?”

Michael paused with his mug halfway to his lips, _Hug An Alien_ written in neon letters across the front; a gag housewarming gift from Alex, and the mug they both understood was his favorite. “I guess I don’t know. It’s just good, whatever it is.”

“Well, is he seeing other people?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“How do you know?”

He rolled his eyes, the muscles getting sore from overuse already, taking another sip and tapping an impatient finger against the porcelain. “Cause he’d tell me. Plus, we spend, like, eighty percent of our time together, anyway. Speaking of,” he mumbled to himself noticing the time. “He’s supposed to be here by now.”

Isobel stood up, adjusting the sleeves of her blouse. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Michael chuckled, “are you kidding? I’m so fucking happy to see you.” The fell into another hug, holding on tight and swaying a bit.

“I didn’t mean to imply Alex isn’t faithful or anything. I’ve always liked him; thought you’d be great together.” She pulled back and cupped Michael’s face. “I’m just so proud of everything you’re doing. I want you to have someone by your side who supports you.”

“That’s Alex, Iz.”

She smiled before it slowly dropped, eyes growing dark. She flicked him in the nose, hard enough for his eyes to water. “Ow, Iz!”

“You told me you’d visit! _That’s_ why you’re a lying liar. Have you even picked a week?”

Michael froze with his mouth open prepared to argue. The truth was he’d not even thought about it. He called Isobel at least once a week, usually more than that, but the desire to return to New Mexico was long gone.

“You’re that happy?”

He just nodded, grateful that she understood.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled Isobel close, their heads tilted together and walked her to the door. “How long are you staying? There’s this diner that’s got the greatest breakfast you’ll ever have and a dive bar where Alex sings sometimes? All military but they’re all great. We’ll take you out.”

Isobel smiled, sliding on a pair of sunglasses as they stepped outside into the bright sunlight. “Just the weekend but that sounds great. We can make a day of it. I’ve got plans for today, anyway. I found a nice hotel with a spa. It’s a pamper myself kind of day.”

Michael laughed before stopping, confused by what he was seeing. “Maria’s here?”

Isobel shook her head as she got took the keys from her purse. “No, but my car died two days ago and, since the best mechanic in town is gone, Sanders has it and is taking forever. She let me borrow the truck.”

Trying to control his smirk, Michael asked, “you two get close?”

She stuck out her tongue before climbing into the truck. The engine rolled over with a roar and she rolled down the window. “Call me later?”

Michael laughed and nodded, backing away with a wave as she drove off down the road. He checked his cellphone again, disappointed to see no message from Alex despite the fact that he was about an hour late at this point.

Alex ran his schedule with military precision. He was always exactly where he was supposed to be at exactly the right-

Michael groaned before smacking himself in the forehead. “Fuck.”

An hour ago, Izzy had arrived. In Maria’s truck. Parked outside of his apartment.

“Ah, fuck.”


	16. Chapter 16

Michael had been calm at first.

He’d driven to Alex’s apartment and felt his pulse pick up, noticing a distinct lack of a Jeep. He waited in the parking lot awhile, staring daggers at his silent phone and ignoring the odd looks from residents wondering who the stressed out stranger in the old beater was.

About thirty minutes into waiting, Michael sighed and headed to the Barrel, the need for a drink drying his mouth and making his hands tremble.

The place was thankfully quiet, just a few men on their day off shooting some pool and catching up. Michael easily got a drink, the muscles of his jaw twitching with the smell of hops. His fingers dragged through the condensation on the glass, leaving a clean streak in their wake. He’d worked so hard to get sober, realizing quickly that just one drink was never _just_ one drink.

But, fuck, he wanted it. The thought that Alex could disappear made him ache and the vulnerability that came with that…he needed it to stop. His breaths were coming in small, shaky bursts as he fought with himself. A beer wouldn’t make Alex come back, but it might make the loss a little easier to take.

Wrapping his shaking fingers around the glass, he squeezed and lifted it, forearm sticking to the bar top, but a strong, familiar hand gently held onto his wrist, firmly pressing until the glass sat on the wooden surface once again.

Michael bit his lip, overwhelmed and feeling shame prick at his eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Unable to move, Michael just stared at his fingers still clinging to the beer.

“Michael.” His name sounded like a command he couldn’t help but respond to. “Stand up. We’re going.”

He felt suddenly exhausted as Alex guided him out of the bar, a pillar of strength by his side, making him feel safe and secure. He rested his head against the cool glass of the window, watching buildings and trees fly by in a daze as Alex drove him home. Between Isobel’s surprise visit, the fear of losing Alex again and the temptation of his old coping skills, Michael felt wrung out.

When they pulled up to his apartment in what felt like seconds, Alex helped him out and into the apartment. He turned on a small lamp and guided Michael into the bedroom, sitting him on the edge of the bed.

“I’m gonna help you get undressed. That okay?”

Michael nodded, longing to feel Alex’s hands on him, a reassurance he was still there. His eyes drooped as Alex removed his flannel and took off his jeans. Through closed eyes, he felt himself falling back into the bed with his soft, warm blanket tucked in around him.

Before sleep could take him to a hopefully dreamless state, he heard Alex clear his throat.

“Can I stay? With you?”

Michael smiled and nodded. “Please.”

Within a few moments, Alex slid in behind him, slipping a hand around his middle and pulling him back until Michael’s back rested firmly against Alex’s chest.

“I love you, Michael.”

“Love you, Alex.”

********

The back of his eyelids glowed orange from the sun pouring through the window. Michael rolled onto his back, arm flopping into the empty space next to him. Sitting up too fast, he looked around the room and found no evidence of Alex. His heart sank as he remembered the day before.

He threw the covers off and went into the living room, hunting down his cellphone, when a figure caught his eye sitting on his tiny balcony. Michael took a deep breath, hand coming to his chest in relief that Alex hadn’t walked out in the middle of the night.

He schooled himself and stepped outside. It was already hot, but not oppressive. A slight breeze had Alex’s hair blowing into his eyes, making him look like a relaxed teenager again. When the door clicked, Alex looked over and smiled, reaching down and handing over a cup of coffee.

“Morning.”

Michael sat, sipping on the lukewarm coffee. “Morning.”

They stayed silent as the birds sang to one another, a few cars distantly passing on the highway.

“Maria wasn’t here.”

Michael watched from the corner of his eye as Alex looked into his cup sitting on his lap, eyes closing and releasing an obvious breath of relief.

“Her truck?”

“Isobel came to visit. Her car broke down and Sanders is taking his time.”

Alex nodded, biting his lip but not looking at Michael.

“I need you to have more faith in me, Alex.”

With an eyebrow raised, Alex turned to look at Michael. “What?”

Shrugging, Michael looked out over the parking lot. He’d been here long enough to recognize some of his neighbor’s cars. The ones he liked were all home.

“You ran again.”

The hand not holding onto his cup squeezed the arm of the chair, Alex’s knuckles going white with exertion.

“I’m gonna talk now and you’re not, okay?”

Michael gestured dramatically to Alex, offering him the floor.

“When I came over and saw Maria’s truck I panicked. I couldn’t think of why she’d just show up or what she needed to talk to you about that required her making the trip here. I was sure she was here to convince you to go home. With her.”

His left leg bounced as he forced his words out, Alex’s discomfort now an aura. Michael stayed silent but reached out, holding onto Alex’s bare forearm, rubbing his thumb across the soft skin.

“I started thinking of every reason it was a good idea for you to leave with her. I had a list. A pretty long list.”

“Alex, there’s no way-“

“So, I called my therapist and she fit me in.”

Michael snapped his jaw shut, speechless.

Alex glanced up through his dark lashes, eyes brimming and cheeks on fire. “I never doubted you, Michael. But I’m still doubting myself.”

“That’s,” Michael searched for the right words. “Fucking awesome.” Alex’s eyebrows pinched as Michael realized his misstep. “That you called your therapist! Not the doubting!”

They both chuckled at Michael’s ineloquence, his hand still firmly holding onto Alex.

“You kinda lost faith in me, though, huh?”

Brows furrowed, Michael asked, “what do you mean?”

Alex shrugged and took a sip of his coffee, not reacting as Michael’s hand finally slipped away. “You still think I’m just waiting for you to fuck up, don’t you?”

Rolling his eyes, Michael leaned his head back against the chair, eyes closed as the sun drenched his skin. “Not usually, no. But yesterday, it was like the stars aligned to make me look like a schmuck.”

Alex snorted before sliding his fingers into Michael’s. “Yeah. But I trust you. My issue is with me, not you.”

Michael lifted Alex’s hand to his lips and kissed the back, nuzzling his nose into the thin skin. “Me, too.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t drink.”

Michael thought about it, feeling a small sense of pride bloom then quickly fade. “Thanks to you.”

“You gonna call Barb today?”

Michael nodded, imagining the referrals to AA his therapist would be tossing his way yet again. “Yeah. She’s usually pretty good about getting me in.”

“Good.” Alex stood, bringing Michael with him. He wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck and leaned in for a kiss, morning breath and dry lips completely ignored as his fingers played with soft curls. “I’m glad I was there.”

Michael sighed, resting his cheek against Alex’s shoulder, face tucked into his neck. He mumbled, “I’m still tired.”

Laughing, Alex tried pushing him off, saying, “so go back to sleep for a while.”

Michael stood straight with a smile, grabbing Alex’s hand and pulling him back toward the bedroom with a wide smile.

“Not without you.”

Back in bed, Alex’s head resting on Michael’s bare chest, wrapped completely around one another, Michael brushed his nose against the shell of Alex’s ear, whispering, “I love you,” and pulling Alex even closer.

A muffled, “I love you, more,” was the last thing Michael heard before he drifted back to sleep with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an epilogue to go


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it. Thank you so much for the support and kindness you all shared! It kept me going. May we all get our happy endings <3

The windows were wide open, a slight breeze ruffling the sheer curtains, the overhead fan whirring quietly above them.

Alex arched his back, lip flushed a dark red, bitten between his teeth, hands planted firmly against the headboard. He opened his eyes and watched the fan blades spin, damp loose curls moving in and out of his vision. His mouth flew open with a gasp as Michael changed position and moved faster. Turning his head, Alex saw Michael’s black hat sitting proudly on top of the dresser, a photo of the two of them on moving day, all smiles and laughter, framed beside it.

Michael was breathing heavily, shifting to snake an arm under Alex’s shoulders and leaning down to press their foreheads together. Alex wrapped his arms around Michael’s back, fingertips skating up the soft, tan skin until his hands could grip strong shoulders, holding on while Michael slid his hand between them.

Alex squeezed his eyes closed while his entire body shook, and his toes curled. Michael pulled him closer, sticky hand flying to the headboard to stay grounded while Alex opened his mouth to share their moans.

Chuckling, Alex loosened his grip on Michael, running his hands in gentle, soothing patterns across his back. They remained silent, catching their breath, and holding each other close. When Michael refused to sit up, Alex moved his hands to cup Michael’s jaw, bringing them face to face. His smile fell when he saw tears in Michael’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Michael shook his head and looked at Alex’s chest, moving a finger through the dark smattering of hair. “Michael. C’mon.”

He sighed and shimmied further down Alex’s body, skin sticking with sweat. He rested his chin on his hands that sat on Alex’s stomach while Alex placed a steadying hand on the back of his neck.

“I can’t believe this is real.”

Nodding, Alex looked around their home. They didn’t have much, most of their furniture not worth hefting all the way to California, but it seemed to suit them. They’d both been raised to not have excess stuff, minimalism a side effect of always being prepared to move. But it worked. The apartment was quiet and so bright. Alex didn’t realize how little light he’d kept in his life all these years until he found this place with the love of his life.

“I’ve never been this happy.” Alex ran a hand through Michael’s curls, watching as his boyfriend’s eyes closed and his lips tilted into a small smile.

“Isobel’s gonna freak out.”

Alex laughed and pulled Michael off him with a dramatic groan. They laid side by side, fingers interlocked between them. In their bed. In their home. Together.

“I think she’ll like it.”

“You’re confident,” Michael said with a raised eyebrow.

Shrugging, Alex looked at their hands, silently wondering what a simple gold band would look like on Michael’s finger. “She’ll be happy if you’re happy.”

Michael smiled and pulled Alex close, his head resting against Michael’s chest listening to his heart beat steadily. He felt Michael kiss his hair before fingers began running idly through it.

“I love you.”

Alex swallowed and kissed Michael’s chest. The lump in his throat always appeared when Michael said it, no matter how many times he heard it before.

“I love you, too.”

“You’ll stay with me forever?”

“Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was all divided up here and on Tumblr so I thought I'd simplify it a bit!


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